Petra had come to report on this so-called "Evil Magician". Like all journalists, she was cynical, hard-bitten, seen it all. "So this 'magic'. It is all fake blades and mirrors, isn't it?" was her opening question.

The Evil Magician's reply was to produce a steel bladed power-saw. He reached out to Petra, grabbed her arm and forced her to touch the razor-sharp saw-blade. "Is that fake?" he said. She had to admit that it was not. "You reporters are all the same. None of you can conceive that there may be people in this world smarter or more wise than you! I will show you exactly how the magic is done- there are NO tricks!"

Petra shied away, deciding from the tone of the Magician's voice that he must be a dangerous nutcase. But then he spoke again, in a low chant, and snapped his fingers... in an instant, she was in a deep trace. "Remove your clothes, my dear!" order the Magician. In a daze, she slipped off her jacket, then her skirt, then her bra. "Now lie on the table." He tied her spreadeagled to the bench where the sawing frame lay, clamped the frame over her slender waist. Still held in the mesmeric power of the Magician's eyes, she lay submissive and placid as he bound her to the four corners of the bench. The spell only lifted when the Evil Magician once more revved the power saw!

"What...? What are you DOING? NOOOOOOO!" she screamed as she became aware of her mortal peril. The Magician revved the blade once more- and plunged it through her middle!

The cut was finished. She lay, bisected, cut in half, in total, shocking silence.

"And now... AWAKEN!" and with a SNAP! of the magician's fingers, life flooded back into her! "You see my dear, it was no trick, no fake blade... merely a power which you were too ignorant to acknowledge..."